


"Volly" -  (Molly Finds The Written Word)

by SirRobertThomas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 23:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirRobertThomas/pseuds/SirRobertThomas
Summary: Molly searching through a stack of old forgotten books, notes and pamphlets in her father's library in the attempts of finding something interesting to read. she came across a rather old and tattered journal, diary of sort of someone by the name of Tom Riddle. Some of the pages were faded, torn and some appeared to have fresh ink, as if but written moments ago.She sat for a moment and started to read the beginning - "My father has beaten mother and myself yet again. Mother has a broken nose and like myself has bruise up and down our arms, back and legs where he had used a razor strap. I swear when I get older I am going to kill that man!"





	"Volly" -  (Molly Finds The Written Word)

[ ](https://ibb.co/zFKK6qc)

"Molly Prewett - how many times must you be told not to lollygag in these here passage ways?"

"Sorry Professor Oak - I was daydreaming I guess." 

"I would hate to send Ignatius and Lucretia an owl about their little girl and her lack of attention."

"Oh please, not my parents - they would be so mad. Father might pull me out of school!"

"I know Ignatius and I seriously doubt that. Nonetheless, I do not believe we need to contact them if you promise me to get on to class and do as you are supposed to."

"Oh yes sir - right away sir!" and ran down the hall toward her next class which by now had already started.

Lord Oak couldn't help but laugh to himself a bit seeing that Molly reminded him of himself when he was her age. He was always doing something he shouldn't have been doing. Like Molly he was never a bad sort but he was a dreamer.

It wasn't long after that Molly searching through a stack of old forgotten books, notes and pamphlets in her father's library in the attempts of finding something interesting to read. Her father had many ancient manuscripts from long forgotten writers from all over the world. Molly searched and searched and finally just as she was about to give up in finding that struck her interest, she came across a rather old and tattered journal, diary of sort of someone by the name of Tom Riddle. The name sounds as if she had heard it before from somewhere - but where?

Some of the pages were faded, torn and some appeared to have fresh ink, as if but written moments ago. Some of the pages was covered in ink drops as if Tom had gotten in a hurry, some had what appeared to have smudges of dried wine. 

She sat for a moment and started to read the beginning - "My father has beaten mother and myself yet again. Mother has a broken nose and like myself has bruise up and down our arms, back and legs where he had used a razor strap. I swear when I get older I am going to kill that man!" That was more than enough to hook her. She took Tom's writings and ran for her room where she slammed the door behind her and hopped on the bed where she continued to read.

Molly found the words which young Tom wrote bewitching and down right hypnotizing. The more she read the more she wanted to read. Page after page was flip until suddenly somewhere in the dust - somewhere between day and night she felt her eyes getting heavier and as the sun set on yet another day, her eyes closed. The conscious world slipped away giving way to the astral plane where she could see strange shapes forming in the distance. Molly found herself flying at first but without the use of her broom. Images passed by her without directly interacting with her. People and places she had seen before and some she knew speed by her. There were also those people and places that formed before her that she had never seen before.

The scene around her changed yet again and she found herself walking along a lone dirt road in the middle of nowhere. There was a house in the distance, odd looking she thought. It wasn't a fancy house nor was it a shack.Molly seemed to be pulled ever closer and the closer she got got she started hearing voices, a man's voice. He was yelling at someone about being sorry and worthless. Images of a very large beast of a man and a small child started to appear.

She watched as the adult figure drew back to strike the boy - it was a small boy the man was slapping around - "Hey stop that this instant!" Molly screamed out. She watched as the huge man's hand landed against the boys head. Had he not had hold of the boys arm he would have surely hit the ground. She was nearly on them, way to close for comfort but comfort at the moment was the furthest thing from her mind - "I said stop! - do not strike that boy again." and reached out to grab the man's arm to discover her hand floated through the man's arm. The man never acknowledge she was there nor did the woman sitting on the ground next to the outside wall of the house. The child however did.

"You and your mother has been the downfall of me for far too long! I may not be able to put either of you out on the street but you will no longer stay in the main house - do you hear me boy?" the man said pushing him away from him. The boy fell backwards against his mother who was still on the ground with her back against the brick work which ran the length of the house at the lower half. The remainder of the house was weather beat wood boards which were in serious need of paint. 

The cruel man walked away leaving both weeping. The boy looked toward Molly in question but never said a word and looked back to his mother. Somehow she had managed to travel through time and space to a moment in time when Tom Riddle was yet a small child but how? As she drew nearer the image of Tom and his mother began to fade until there was nothing. She was once again caught up in the vortex heading either back to her own time or perhaps another time in young Tom's life. It all suddenly become clear as she discovered herself once again upon her bed with the journal is in her hands but now the pages were empty, nothing appeared to have ever been written. She placed it in the night stand beside her bed then closed her eyes. Sleep over took her.

  



End file.
